


De profundis clamavi ad te

by gnostic_heretic



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: (Characters), Alternate Universe - Medieval, Erotica, M/M, Medieval Monastery au, Monks, Religious Guilt, Self-Flagellation, Self-Harm, Trans Male Character, Whipping, sincore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 22:53:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14412252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gnostic_heretic/pseuds/gnostic_heretic
Summary: The chant echoed in the silence of the room, and if one listened carefully, they could hear the muffled sound of it from the long, empty corridor.Tolys opened the door just slightly, careful not to make a sound. And there he was, looking out of the window in sacred ecstasy, his blond hair falling on his shoulders— his chest so pale, glowing and full as the moon in the sky.His song was a prayer shared between him and God, and Tolys felt so dirty, so guilty and low as he listened to his voice.





	De profundis clamavi ad te

**Author's Note:**

> What should one do when he has a dozen wips and an exam in three weeks? Of course, the answer is writing LietPol medieval monk erotica. Probably the first time I've used the M rating correctly in my whole LIFE.   
> This was conceptually part of a larger AU story but it can stand on its own, so, here it is!

The chant echoed in the silence of the room, and if one listened carefully, they could hear the muffled sound of it from the long, empty corridor.  
Tolys opened the door just slightly, careful not to make a sound. And there he was, looking out of the window in sacred ecstasy, his blond hair falling on his shoulders— his chest so pale, glowing and full as the moon in the sky.   
His song was a prayer shared between him and God, and Tolys felt so dirty, so guilty and low as he listened to his voice. Powerless as he watched him pick up a whip.  
 _Confíteor Deo omnipoténti  
et vobis, fratres,  
quia peccávi nimis—_  
(the harsh crack of the whip on his back, a moan—)  
 _cogitatióne, verbo,  
ópere et omissióne:  
mea culpa, mea culpa—_  
(a second hit on his shoulder, his face betraying his pain and the light of his sincere penance, his eyes glistening with tears—)  
 _mea máxima culpa.  
Ideo precor beátam Maríam semper vírginem,  
omnes angelos et sanctos—_  
(he hit himself a third time, and Tolys saw the blood running down his back, and tears down his cheeks.)  
 _et vos, fratres,_  
oráre pro me ad Dóminum Deum nostrum.

There was a sigh as he was done, a breath of sorrow and extreme grief.  
And Tolys wanted to reach for him, to clean the wounds on his back and soothe the ache of his soul.  
There was a creak as he reflected on what to tell him the next day— a loud creak in the silence,  _curse this old and worn out door_ — a sound that made Feliks turn his head.

He immediately brought a hand to his mouth to force himself not to scream, and one to his chest, pulling his habit up to hide himself.  
“ _You_ — brother, how long have you been watching?  _What have you seen_?”  
The fear in Feliks’ eyes made his heart skip a beat. Tolys couldn’t find in himself the courage to answer his questions.   
Instead, he kneeled down next to him, in the light of a candle and the full moon. He gently closed the bible that laid open on the floor.  
“Dear Feliks, what is it that torments your heart? What sin could require such punishment?”  
Feliks closed himself into his own shaking arms, grasping the rough cloth of the habit so tightly that his knuckles turned white. A shadow of doubt passed quickly into his eyes.  
“Brother Tolvydas”, he whispered, “I have so many sins to confess, and so many fears that keep me awake. I talk to God every night— I repent, I cry, I ache; and yet, he never answers my prayers. I don’t know what to do.”  
The grief in his voice and gaze was  a golden arrow that pierced Tolys’ heart. “Feliks, I will listen to you, if only you wish. Whenever you want, and I promise I will always answer.”  
“Will you listen to me, will you relieve this burden?”  
Feliks held Tolys’ hand close to his face as he sighed in relief. The dampness and warmth of his cheeks stirred up something in Tolys’ stomach, the fluttering of a frenzied moth dancing at the light of a candle.   
 _If you fly too close to the sun, you will burn._  
“I cannot offer you redemption; but I can offer you my friendship and sincere affection.”  
“That’s enough for me.”  
Feliks’ smile was disarming, unforeseen. When he let go of his hand, Tolys felt like something was missing. Like his hand had never been emptier, an unexplainable longing had taken over his soul.  
“Tolvydas”, Feliks whispered, and he let go of his habit, his only shield, to join his hands in prayer, “I am keeping a secret that is wearing out my sanity. I have lived my life hiding, and in fear… in fear that someone will find out. The Lord has spoken to me, and I know that I am righteous; however, the people who speak for Him would burn me, if they knew. And now, maybe for the nature of my own shape and corrupted flesh, the Devil has instilled—  _unholy desires_  in my heart.”  
“ _Carnal_ desires?”  
“Yes.”  
“And have you acted on it?”  
“No…”  
“How long has this been going on?”  
“Brother Tolvydas, it started around the time you joined our monastery.”  
Feliks gulped, and Tolys could not, somehow, read the enigma of his expression.   
“So it’s been two years? Have you done this every night? How have you—”  
“ _Tolys_ , I think I’m in love with you.”

A flutter of his eyelashes, a flinch of his head.  
His lips suddenly looked so inviting and sweet, like ripe peaches in a hot summer afternoon.  
Instead of a kiss, he gave him a hand. Passing the whip that Tolys had forgotten about, still mesmerized by his eyes and shoulders and exposed chest.  
“That’s why”, Feliks said, “only you can solve this… I have offended God, and I have offended you.”  
Tolys hesitated. “You want me to  _flagellate_ you?”  
“Yes.”  _Not a hint of doubt._  “It’s the only way I can prove to you that I have repented.”  
The determination in his shaking voice made a chill run down Tolys’ spine.  
 _What was, after all, their fault?_  
The preacher who converted his village had taught him and his family that fornication was wrong, sodomy was wrong, idolatry was wrong. But to love, and to be loved— was that not the very essence of human life?  
The God, or Gods of creation would never be so presumptuous to deny the very nature they created. __  
Am I, however, so presumptuous to know what a God thinks?  
Tolys stood up straight in front of the window, and looked at the moon and the leaves fluttering in the night’s breeze. He took a deep breath, and clumsily unlaced his robe and undid his bandages.

_It’s too late to come back now. I have flown too close to the fire, felt the heat on my back— and now I fall, like Icarus, in the mayhem of the sea._

“Whip me instead.”

When Tolys turned his head, Feliks’ jaw was dropping.  
He could read the questions in his expression— _questions that he did not ask, and how could he_ —he could sense the feelings and sensations boiling under his skin, heating his face with a sudden, violent blush.  
“I couldn’t possibly—”  
“I am serious”, Tolys said as he kneeled, turning his back towards him once again, “I share your burden, and your feelings, and I have instilled those desires in you by being unafraid, unashamed of what my flesh has told me in turn.”  
Feliks wavered, tracing the skin of Tolys’ back with the tip of his finger. Pale as the milky way, each freckle a different star, a constellation.  
“Are you sure about this?”  
“I am.”  
The first hit was shallow and kind, almost a gentle caress, as was the second. Feliks clearly wasn’t convinced about this.  
“What are you hesitating for?”  
“I don’t want to hurt you…”  
Tolys furrowed his brows. “You have no problem hurting  _yourself_ , and yet you are afraid to hurt me? You have no idea how many hits I’ve taken from my parents. This will be nothing.”  
The third hit came late, but _god’s sakes did it hurt_ —   
Tolys let out a pained moan, a  _loud_ one.  
“ _Hey_ ”, Feliks tugged his shoulder to let him turn, to look into his eyes, “are you alright? If we are too loud, we will be found.”  
He looked genuinely concerned. Tolys checked his back with a hand: the whip mark stung, but it was not bleeding.  
Face to face with Feliks once again, he could not restrain his thoughts any longer.  
“Can I share a confession with you, since you asked for my counsel?”  
“Yes, of course you can.”  
“I have been thinking about this for a long time, and— if you allow me to stray away from what the Church says, what the wise men say, what the Saints say, Feliks; I don’t care if I am doing wrong, I don’t care if I should repent. If we are all born in sin, then be it! We shall live it to the fullest!”  
Tolys caressed his face, a tender and loving touch. His hand finally felt once again  _full_ , his body whole.  "I love you. I love you, and I love you more than I can say.“  
It all felt so right. The erratic beat of his pulse. The heat of Feliks’ skin and the gentle docility with which his flesh surrendered to his touch, soft and smooth as he held his wrist and guided him to his chest.   
He felt the heaviness of it, and his throat suddenly went dry.  
 _You never realize how much you wanted something, until you have it in your hands._  
Under his palm, he could feel Feliks’ heartbeat, and his nipple going stiff as he pressed lightly. The sound of his breath as he caressed it gently heated up Tolys’ insides like a wildfire.  
"If you are sure about this”, Feliks said, “then so am I.”


End file.
